


Devour Me

by Hollow Girl (Dejahvu)



Series: Eat Me [3]
Category: Pitch Black (2000), Riddick (2013), The Chronicles of Riddick (2004), The Chronicles of Riddick Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 08:09:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5409449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dejahvu/pseuds/Hollow%20Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fiona finds herself in the desert, in the middle of no where, with Johns, a holy man, and a bald murderer who's got his eye on her. Why does it feel familiar?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

“Fiona!”

She looked over her shoulder at Johns, a raised brow hidden behind her shades. He stalked forward, watching the red light blink, a signal from a beacon nearby. A washed away long forgotten planet sat in front of them, dried to the bone. They had been moving forward quickly since they picked up Fiona. Three bounties between Helion Prime and here, but the end destination was always her coordinates. She still had no name, no understanding of why Bryan would send her out here, but Johns seemed to know to whom they were heading.

“Is this it?” He pushed down on the receiver, watching as the broadcast came in thick and covered in static. “Must be storms down there.” The message came in clear this time, words slamming across the screen frantically. Fiona glanced at the text, watching a hazy figure shroud in green light appear with a name just below.

_Richard B. Riddick_

“Yes. These are the coordinates.”

“Strap in, we’re landing.”

Fiona picked herself up and moved from the pilot’s chair. She moved gracefully around Moss, Dahl, and Lockspur, minding her limbs, making sure to not touch a single inch of any of them.

The last three months had left them all confused. Fiona didn’t say much, and if she did speak it was to Johns mainly. She had developed a strange relationship with Dahl though, after a bar fight that went array. A man had tried to feel Fiona up and without much though she flipped him, straddled him, and beat him within inches of his life. Dahl had to pull her off, and Fiona had figured in that moment that her free rides would be cut off, Johns would leave her there and forget about her.

But the blonde fought for her. She shook out the tension in her muscles, told her she had done good, and reassured her that she would be fine. They didn’t speak of it, but Fiona could feel the eyes on her. Moss kept his distance, Lockspur kept his distance; even Johns had a fear in everything that he did. Fiona couldn’t explain it, she couldn’t very well understand it either, but when Dahl had pulled her off that body she had caught a glimpse of her reflection.

_An animal._

Fiona took the only seat available, the back of the ship, the cargo hold, the seat where they placed their bounties. She had felt a little odd the first time she had taken a seat in the chair, the first time she had reached down and closed the ankle shackles around herself. But there was an odd comfort in all of it, being in the center, being able to watch everyone on the ship.

They didn’t pay much attention to her, but she was oddly proud to say they protected her when in public. They never left her to fend on her own, and even though she couldn’t explain to them anything period, they had her back.

She looked away from them, her brows closing together as she concentrated on her hands in her lap. Bryan. She missed him, she desired him. He was the only person she had met in her time alive that she could feel comfortable around. He never questioned her from the first time she had opened her eyes in that cold dark room. He never questioned her need to fight, to struggle with him, to flee. He only embraced it and informed her that it just couldn’t be.

Aereon had visited her two weeks after her arrival on what Bryan called her “new prison”. The woman had floated in on air, spoke to her as if they knew each other, and reassured her that she would do great. Fiona didn’t know what to say, her arms and legs shackled to a large oak chair in the middle of what was classified as her room. She had been violent the first couple of weeks, to herself and to others. She didn’t know how to control what was inside of her then.

She glanced up at the sand world that came into view through the front window. The planet was sunny, desolate. Its presence sent a signal to her brain and a memory tried to fly up, tried to display in her mind something she had experienced before. She instantly could feel the heat, smell the sand and the sweat, hear the distant cries. But the triggers never worked and she felt the milky haze hold onto the thought and cloud it. It all vanished just as quickly as it had come.

_You’ll remember when you’re ready._

“We’ll be dropping in five. Looks like there’s another crew down there already.” Johns mumbled more to himself, but the others listened for his command. “We can handle some blood mercs. Lets do this.”

Fiona had learned in her short stint of traveling with this group that some mercenaries were in this line of work not just for the money gain but because the military deemed this as a war against humanity. Criminals were running rampant around the entire known galaxy, and hiring the proactive militia had become a government initiative. When Johns swiveled and looked at his crew his eyes hit Fiona and he stared. She refused to wear their uniform; rather she kept the “rags” on her skin. Johns joked with her every now and then, but she preferred to blend in rather than stick out.

They all wore all black, matching pistols, matching guns, and matching shoes. They each had a different style of plating on their bodies as extra protection but the texture and patterns were all identical. A single unit of power and civility, they struck Fiona as an odd set of mercenaries. What Bryan had expressed to her about their “kind” was something different, so her confidence and comfort in this group had grown more than she thought it would. She was shrouded of course by her comfort with these people but it was an end to a means and she wouldn’t leave them just yet.

The truth was she didn’t know where to go or what to do. She didn’t even know who she was let alone what the world had to offer. Bryan had merely given her coordinates; to follow them seemed to be the right direction.

“Lets greet the peons.”

The hunk of metal touched the ground and the other crewmembers did not hesitate climbing out of their seats. Fiona hesitated, waiting as Dahl dropped the hatch. The outside air crawled into the ship and it filled her nostrils. Warmth, dirt, sweat, blood. She breathed it in and closed her eyes, leaning her head back in the chair, a small smile on her face.

“Looking quite comfortable in that chair.”

_Who knows maybe it was a part of my past._

She didn’t say anything to Moss. She accepted his hand and let him pull her out of the chair. She let him lean in and support her. He was a good man, and his smile told her he would always remain as such.

Her feet crunched on the dirt as she joined the other three, keeping to the back. The group in front of them was massive, bodies coming in from the right that would have remained unseen beforehand. The man in front was small compared to the majority of his comrades, but his smile deemed him in charge. They were primitive in dress, and Fiona felt an odd twinge as she looked more their style than the group she was with.

“Like I was saying, I got this.” His accent was thick, and unmissed, his tongue rolling over syllables with lethargic grace.

“You knew who that was right?” Johns glanced at the men forming in around them. Lockspur dropped the cargo he was holding, all eyes bouncing around at one another. The tension built as they all focused on each other’s guns, figuring out in their minds who was bigger, better, badder. Fiona preyed she remained unnoticed, unwatched, unfathomable. She wasn’t packing, and every time John’s offered her a gun she denied him.

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” The other merc captain’s crew chuckled along side him. The laughter rippled and a few didn’t join in, but the chuckles still cut.

Fiona kept herself inline with Johns, eyes bouncing around the main faces in front of her from behind the shades. The boy in the back sparked her interest, a cross around his neck, the chain catching in the sun. She heard the faint clatter of beads in her head and she instinctively looked for the source off to the right. But there wasn’t one, and she knew there wouldn’t be.

“The concept of backup, still has no appeal to you?”

“My bestest here can ball with anyone.” The primitive merc eyed up John’s crew, an impish smile on his face. “No disrespect for your crew of course, who look strong too in those matchy matchy outfits.” His joke sent another roll of snickers through his crew, and the giant man on his back left made a snide comment about dress code.

Johns smiled. Fiona watched Dahl’s side as she shrugged her armor around and crossed her arms. Her hip popped and the men looked, the blondes eyes never leaving the crew captain in front of them. Fiona couldn’t help but smile, already knowing that her blonde friend there had her eyes set on murder, and the tiny joking man was going to feel it. Every second of it.

“It’s not my intention to jump another mans claim, if you don’t mind maybe we’ll just pull up a chair and spectate for a while.” Johns moved forward, his crew keeping themselves immobile. Fiona felt instantly naked, her block from view pushing in towards the station. The boy with the cross around his neck had his eyes locked on her, and she shifted her gaze away from him.

The impassive short man stepped into Johns’ directional path, putting a hand out to stop the military mercenary captain from continuing into the station. “What if I do?”

“Well this is a co-op station and it is open to all Mercs. By the way my name is –“

“Too late.” His smile never seemed to vanish from his face but it did grow. He was proud of himself for that joke, his right hand man chuckling. “That’s your name. Too late. And I need you to step away from my HQ my friend.”

“Well I’ll tell you what, I won’t lift a finger until you come ask me for it, how’s that?” And with that Johns walked around him and let himself in. Dhal seemed to hesitate, her eyes lingering after Johns who had vanished inside the building in front of them. When Moss lifted his cargo box Fiona followed directly behind him, taking one of the smaller boxes for him. She didn’t make eye contact, keeping her gaze forward and covered. The rest quickly followed and the cool dim light inside gave them a much-needed break from the sun.

Johns and Dahl picked one side of the working station. They moved two metal tables together and sat the crates of supplies down on one. Fiona found herself helping Moss take out the weapons he pointed out. He was meticulous about what he wanted to show to the other crew, and when her fingers graced something he wasn’t ready to take out he’d give her a simple no.

“Fiona.” She perked up when Johns called for her. A small nod to Moss and she dismissed herself, joining Dahl at the table with her captain.

“Yeah?”

“Were you aware of who these coordinates were sending us to?” His voice was low, his eyes dodging between the two women in front of him, and the other crew that was making a point of sitting and staring on the other side of the room.

“Nope.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, finding herself instantly feeling as though she was five. She didn’t want to ask, because she knew she should already know. Everyone there seemed to know, and maybe it was insane to think it was common knowledge, because of course she wasn’t aware of much of the world save for the five years she had experienced, but she felt like she should know. “Who is Riddick?”

“He’s the man that killed my son.” Johns cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest, eyes leveling with Fiona’s. She was thankful for the shades, and she was thankful that they understood. “I’ve been looking for him to have a little chat.”

“Is that it?”

“Not entirely.” His sigh spoke more than his words. She waited for him to continue. He was, in that moment, not telling her something. She furrowed her brows, crossed her own arms, and stared at him patiently. But he didn’t speak. His hands swiped over the hologram map and he pointed out a tunnel structure 5 clicks south. When he dismissed Dahl to retrieve a nod from the ship Fiona felt a sudden surge of power.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Excuse me?” He once again crossed his arms.

“You’re keeping something from me, what is it?”

“I suppose when you remember you’ll find out.” He walked away.

Fiona felt the anger build up inside her. With fire on her heels and fists balled up she escorted herself outside quickly. She was hot on Dahl’s heels, her weight carrying her across the hot desert landscape. She didn’t follow the woman into the ship; rather she walked around the edge, hiding just on the north side where no one could see her. She unballed her fists quickly and pulled at the cloth that was wrapped around her head. Her face could finally feel the soft air that flitted across the hot summer climate. She closed her eyes and pulled down the sunglasses, breathing in slowly as she tried to steady her heartbeat.

From where she stood she could hear Dhal muttering inside about the atrocious man named Santana. She could hear the footsteps of the other crew’s men as they wandered around the settlement. She could hear the heartbeat of the young boy with the cross; hear the mutters of his prayers. And in the distance she could hear the patter of four feet hitting the ground in a repetitive manner.

“Fiona.” Dahl pulled her from the moment. She turned abruptly and stared at the blonde woman who stood just at the end of the ship, a soft smile on her lips. “You coming?”


	2. Chapter Two

There was enough room for four full crews in the command center; enough room for more men than were in there now and Fiona felt over crowded. The bomb strapped to the front of the metal box that held the key to getting off this planet wasn’t sitting right with her either. She wanted to be ok with it, she wanted to have faith in Johns like the rest of his crew, but there was a nagging sensation in the back of her brain telling her to keep on alert.

The sun was sinking just over the horizon, clouds engulfing the near-night sky rapidly. The darkness was coming on quickly, the mood of the men around her changing with each second. Fiona kept to herself, minding her fingers and toes as Santana’s men went about their orders. They were unpacking something big, lights shinning brightly on the contraption just outside the command center front doors. There were enough men alone to provide two spotlights and patrollers, eyes surveying the desert around them.

She listened to the murmurs, the whispers, and the complaints. She hid under the comfort of night and took a seat on an empty cargo box that was pushed up against the side of the building; just in reach of the light but hidden amongst the shadows. The moon in the sky was blood red, black clouds dancing over the surface in a tease. She wasn’t bothered by the dark; rather she closed her eyes, leaning her head back on the cool metal of the building and enjoyed its embrace. Reaching up, she slipped the glasses from her eyes and tucked them into one of her many pockets.

“So I guess that’s what passes as a fucking moon on this planet?” Johns stepped out of the command center, his feet carrying him over the dirt towards Santana.

There was a second set of feet just behind him, she assumed Dhal. They stopped on the landing just outside, she could hear the pull of leather as the woman crossed her arms. Just to Fiona’s left one of Santana’s brushed by, not noticing her there in the dark. The young man, a rosary in his hands, was deep in thought, prayers spilling softly from his lips.

The rest of the crew was just on the outskirts of the light. Feet carried them a few inches out and a few inches in, all of them pacing and bitching about the enormity of the crew and the lack of light. All of them too scared to venture too far out.

“It’s gonna be a dark night.” Johns took a sip from his cup, glancing over at Santana briefly. “Advantage him.”

Fiona chuckled; uncrossing her legs and peeling her right eye open slightly. Regardless of there being no sun she could see perfectly fine. The world took on a slightly gray tone but the colors were still there. The lack of light didn’t hinder her eyes in the least, a newfound trait she had been scared of when she had first opened her eyes. Much like the hearing she had grown used to it, even playing with it. When she wanted to escape from the floating air bitch back home she would flip all the lights off and just leave the room quietly.

“Maybe he’s going to wear you down first. Force you to go without sleep.”

Dahl uncrossed her arms and pulled her gun from the holster on her leg. The shifting of noise to her left, to Fiona’s left, was shrouded in darkness for Dahl. Fiona glanced over, watching as the boy with the rosary continued on his mumbling, gun down at his side, eyes drifting out at the endless sky. He could easily be dead, darkness or not, Dahl never missed a target.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” Santana slammed a hand down on the table in front of him, the monitor still blank as the giant heat-seeking sensor scanned the area. Dahl looked back, ignoring the disturbance to her left and focusing her pistol on the back of Santana’s head. Fiona could see the glee in the woman’s face, the sheer thought of blowing away the creep playing over and over in the blonde’s mind.

She wouldn’t blame her.

“I’m just sharing my thoughts.” _And annoying you, and pestering you, and getting under your skin._ All things Johns was good at. Fiona knew what he was up to and she could tell it was working. In the end, this Riddick was worth a lot, and Johns was going to play to win, using all of his tools given.

“Well,” Santana turned his body towards the offending captain, “now that you have. Can I politely invite you to step off my fucking porch.”

Johns wasn’t fazed by the tone nor the volume. He only shrugged, eyes catching sight of Fiona just in the back. They shared a second before he turned around and bid his farewell to the sully Santana. Just as Johns’ boot hit the dirt beside her box, his eyes moving from the dark sky to gaze down at her and speak, the giant beacon in the middle of the silent desert, not ten feet away, started to squawk insistently loud.

Johns looked over his shoulders, a moment of eager excitement in his features. He couldn’t hear the conversation Santana was having from here, and it bothered him. Fiona uncrossed her legs, shrugging out her glasses from their hiding place and slipped them back over her eyes. She rose carefully.

“It’s a dog. Not Riddick.”

Johns nodded but he didn’t seem to be listening fully. In a fleeting second he had removed himself from the outside and charged in, Dhal fast on his heels, leaving Fiona alone as the crew that was not with her chattered over their airway line. She jumped at the gunshot, eyes trying to find some kind of shape in the dark that was slipping to its death. But there wasn’t anything and she heard the dispersing banter between the men. At least she knew their aim was shit.

“Nice work Diaz, encouraging.” Santana’s sarcasm was evident. His eyes scanned the area and before she knew it he was looking at her. His glum indifference turned into a sharp smile, his eyes eating away at her clothes.

“I had something in my eye.”

“It’s called a scope.” Santana nodded at her, eyes lingering for a moment before returning to his screen. “Better luck next time.”

Fiona ignored the rest of the conversation, brushing invisible dust from her pants. She stepped over the metal box and slipped into the darkness. The young man with the rosary stood there, back to her, eyes bouncing around. He couldn’t see the figure standing ten yards in front of him, the hulking outline plain as far as Fiona was concerned.

She moved silently, standing two feet to the right of Satana’s crewman, noting the way his ears perked up at the soft sound of sand under her feet. But he wasn’t alarmed. The man just in the distance was complete darkness. He wore a robe over his head, something shielding his eyes, and no matter the amount of squint Fiona couldn’t make out any defining features in the shroud of night.

He was big though, the bulk of the cloak nothing compared to the bulk that lay underneath. In his hand was a blade, the moon bouncing off the surface slightly. The boy to her left seemed to notice that, his finger slipping onto the trigger as he raised the gun ever so slightly.

The unseen man seemed to shake, a soft chuckle heard from where she stood. She could make out his slow breathing pattern now, she could hear his soft heart beat underneath the flesh and muscle and bone of his chest. And just as the noise became overwhelming, as her heart began to beat in rhythm with his and all she could hear was the whisper of the air coming out of his nose he was gone.

“You should be more careful.” Her whisper startled the boy. He drew his gun, fumbling with the safety latch, eyes searching the darkness. He was off by a few inches but she didn’t correct him. Santana called out for his men, and she left the boy to his own devices, heading back towards the light.


	3. Chapter Three

“One night, three dead, not sure I’m loving this trend.”

Fiona dropped down from on top of the ship, eyeing up the three men hovering over the enclosed dead bodies. The air was thick first thing in the morning, something she took note of when she had gotten up before everyone else. The sun had risen extremely slow, a gray cloud just off in the distance untouched by its power. She’d guess a storm. The rest of the crews had awoken after her, rising to coffee and a quick breakfast of dehydrated eggs and precooked bacon. Dahl had offered her a serving and she took it, avoiding the rest of the crew as best she could. She couldn’t get rid of the sinking feeling that when this was done she’d be on her own, kicking the dust they were all mingling in now.

The three she had accompanied gave her a moment’s glance but returned their concerned stares to one another. The Christian boy, who she had learned was named Luna, dropped down to kneel, shaking his head. The bodies were encased in a microfilm that sucked the air out and preserved them. Funerals, even distant future ones, always fared better when the body was fresh.

“Two dead, one missing.” Vargas’s optimism made his crewmembers chuckle. Diaz crossed his arms, the brute of a man just on Fiona’s right. She sized him up in that instance, not too sure why. In her head she knew his weak points were his kneecaps, the heavy muscle throughout his body dense enough to take a bullet and leave him standing. She looked away from him quickly, shaking her head ever so slightly at the brashness of that insight.

“Exactly, three dead.”

“Well look at it this way boys.” She finally spoke up, all sets of eyes spinning to her sunglass covered face, her hood up, blocking the sun even more. “At least we can all fit on one ship now.” She knew her sense of humor left a lot to be desired and judging by the grimaces on the faces around her, her smile wasn’t helping the mood.

Before they could speak another word Santana strolled up, taking the attention as he pulled two giant bear traps behind him. He threw down the chains, eyes staring deeply at Diaz, his right hand man. “Find the rest of these fuckers and get rid of them.” He swiveled, eyes momentarily stopping on Fiona before moving onto Luna. “Luna, say something bible like for these guys.”

They watched the boss walk away before dispersing. Fiona stayed for a moment longer, listening to the prayer spilling from Luna’s mouth. His prayers left her delving for memories. She could hear in her head the clanking of beads; the faint murmur’s of voices long gone. As he wished them good fortune and a future in heaven Fiona felt her stomach knot up, the past right there waiting to be remembered. She hadn’t the heart to mention they weren’t going to the pearly gates, no merc worked hard enough to get right with Jesus.

With that she shrugged her hood off and silently followed after Diaz, watching his lumbering figure move out into the desert, looking for bear traps. If he knew she was there, which she doubted, he didn’t let on. She kept her distance, watching him trapeze through the sand, kicking at rocks and sticks. He picked up a few stray limbs, using the ends to drag across the ground. His strength was his only redeeming quality, his inability to quietly survey, shoot, or notice anything around him left just that, she assumed. When they hit the rocks he went right and she grew tired of him, deciding to head off to the left.

The sun beat down on her, the jacket an impractical choice. She didn’t want to be unprepared though; with the idea of anything able to happen she had to have her possessions on her. Johns wouldn’t care that she didn’t stick around; he wouldn’t care that she needed to run back in and grab something. He was a tough man, an honest man, but not one to be broken over such frivolous things. If she didn’t work her tail off in the end she would be staying on this planet. A small grin overtook her, the thought of this little excursion being a tour hitting her for a moment. She should be more worried of course, but something inside her wouldn’t allow it.

There was less sand here, more rock and juts. She stepped down into a small alcove, looking into the depths of a cave just below. The straight drop was maybe three feet, a ledge she could easily pull herself back up onto. Down below, just inside was water. She pulled off her glasses, giving her eyes a moment as they surveyed the darkness. With assurance she dropped down into the waist high hole, kneeling just before the body of water and scooping up the liquid. The cold water was refreshing. She took a few drinks, gulping it down quickly. With one last scoop she splashed her face before turning around and hoisting herself back up.

“Do enlighten me.” His voice broke the silence of her alone time.

As soon as her body was out of the hole she turned around, looking up at the lurking figure knelt just two feet in front of her. He was on the other side of the hole and she wasn’t sure how she hadn’t seen him there when she went to climb out. He studied her just as much as she studied him, but his face was different. She saw the hard lines, the creases of stress and anger sliding away. There was a softness overtaking him in that moment and she watched his hand, which held a blade, drop ever so slightly. He was letting down his guard, she was not.

In a quick turn she was darting off into the desert. She didn’t know if she could make it, she didn’t claim she could, but at least she would fight. The sand kicked up around her and she used the jutting rocks to bounce off and grow speed. As she turned to the left and banked around the rocks, the station just a hundred yards away, a heavy weight slammed into her and threw her to the ground.

They rolled; sand tossing up around them as she tried to fight. But he was heavier, stronger, and more agile. When they finally came to a halt he was on top, pinning her to the ground, hands holding her wrists into the dirt. But it wasn’t hard, it wasn’t restraining, she could wiggle, she could all but be free. His black goggles showed her reflection and she could see her strange iris’s clearly. She closed her eyes quickly, turning her head away from him.

“Don’t close them.” His voice was a harsh whisper, a command. She quickly turned back to him and opened her eyes, looking up at him with confusion. He stared into her deeply, hesitating, as he seemed to be thinking, and then he let go of her right wrist. She didn’t think to strike but rather she left her arm there, watching as he reached up and pulled down his goggles.

His eyes.

She felt like she was looking into the moon and the stars. She felt the world shift around her and she knew the ground wasn’t moving, just her. Her heart hammered, her body shook. She could see memories in his gray pools; see days and nights, thoughts and feelings. She could see faces that washed away in red, words that got stuck in her throat. She saw herself there, not only in reflection but also in memory. Moments with this very man, someone she didn’t think she had ever met. She could see the way he saw her, see the past so clearly. She had to remind herself to breathe, air gathering in her lungs so hastily. She was hyperventilating, her skin burning under the cloth.

Without thought she reached out with her free hand and brushed her fingertips over his cheek, tempting the area around his eyes. His face creased in confusion as she stared at him the same way.

“Have I met you before?” Her voice was a croak, the lack of water evident.

“Something like that, Fiona.” He seemed to grow closer to her still, and she held the air in her lungs. He dropped down, nose brushing her cheek. He leaned in and she could feel him suck in air just beside her neck, then his lips touched what little flesh was available, lightly

“And you are Riddick. The man we’re here to speak with.”

He pulled back, leaning over her still, providing a gap less than an inch between them. She could feel his inhale and exhale. “How did you find me?”

“Some man gave me coordinates, told me everything I couldn’t remember would be here.” She shifted slightly, bringing her free hand up and placing it on his shoulder. It all felt so natural. His warmth, his skin, she felt like she should be touching him, surrounded by him. With that she closed her eyes, breathing in deeply the air around him, her hand sliding down his bare arm, fingers dancing over dirty flesh. She traveled lower still, down his side and resting just there, as far as she could reach.

“You don’t remember me?”

“No.”

“That’s a pity. I’ve done things.” She felt his hips rock. “Things to you that should not be forgotten.” She couldn’t stop the noise that came from her, the ethereal groan as he pressed into her. She instinctually brought her hips up, bucking into his touch, eyes flashing open to see the grin on his face. She leaned up into him and placed a searing hot kiss on his lips, wrapping her arm around his neck and pulling him back down to her.

The fog in her mind however, remained thick and consistent. The kiss was brilliant, his hands on her skin, their urgent need to pull her jacket open and climb up her chest. She felt it all, cherished it all, but there was something missing, something unfelt. Pushing him aside she slithered out from under him, pressing her back to the rocks and staring down at the brute of a man who now laid flat on his back with a giant grin on his face.

“Are you going to keep me?”

“Come again?” He pulled his goggles back down over his eyes, hoisting himself up from the ground.

“Like a hostage?”

His chuckle meant something. She scowled, watching him gather his things that had fallen when they went rolling. He turned his back to her, shaking his head slightly, the chuckle dissipating. “There once was a time when you begged me to take you with me. And just like then I tell you now, you do what you want.”

And he was off. Fiona rose quickly, dusting off her body, eyes lingering on the station just in the distance. She stood there hesitant, not sure what to do or where to go. Riddick was growing more and more faint and his outline would soon be gone. She let out a sigh of frustration and kicked at the ground. Closing her eyes she exhaled and pinched the bridge of her nose. Without any more hesitation she grabbed her glasses off the ground and headed to the right.


	4. Chapter Four

Fiona felt that she was dragging feet more than she had planned for. Her skin was covered from head to toe and she wished she had taken some layers off before this little excursion. But she couldn’t blame herself; the situation was not one she had expected in the first place.

Her mind kept repeating the last moment of her existence over and over and over... She couldn’t get his eyes out of her memory, stuck right there at the front with the remembrances he had brought with him. She had seen herself, normal eyes, normal skin, normal everything. She had seen herself jumping from building to building, from ledge to ledge. Clothes always different, but the looks she gave the viewer all the same. She could feel the pride inside her, the love and adoration for this unknown man and she couldn’t quite control the feelings that were there now.

She had to walk away, to collect her thoughts, to understand. But now she wanted more than anything to run back.

There was a soft wind picking up, she could feel it just around her ankles, see it as the dust kicked up and twirled across the desert. As she stepped back into the area of the station she felt the tension in the air almost immediately. Dahl had her sniper out, her scope sliding in, the butt of the gun clicking ceremonially at the end. She dug through her box of rounds and pulled out what she was looking for, slapping it in and lining her eye up with the scope.

As Fiona rejoined them, unnoticed by the bodies that surrounded her, she felt the prickle of doubt run its course. The shot was fired, she missed.

“Again.” Johns was standing just a few feet away, binoculars shoved to his face as he watched the same thing she had been shooting at. Fiona could see the shift of something out in the distance but she didn’t know quite sure what. A fleeting moment let her think maybe it was Riddick, but her eyes lingered off in the direction far to the left, where she had last seen him traveling. It couldn’t be.

The second shot fired, the blast filling the silence, and this time Dahl didn’t miss.

“Let’s go, we have a trail.” Johns turned quickly and headed towards the ship, Lockspur and Moss fast on his heels. “Fiona, you’re riding with me.” He glanced over his shoulder for a moment to make sure she had heard him, and she most certainly had. He had caught her off guard, her mind focusing more on skin and heat, but she nodded all the same and quickly followed behind.

She wanted to ride with Moss.

The bikes shinned in the sunlight and she eyed up the bald man who slid over the hog with ease and brought it to life. She wanted to slide on behind him, not Johns. Johns turned his on, the blue light of the engine and exhaust kicking up heat and he looked over at her, she felt as though she had done something wrong. That look was one he reserved only for the convicts he locked up. She didn’t keep him waiting, looking away from his eyes as she slid on behind him and locked her feet into the bars at the bottom.

They were off before there were words, Johns following a screen just on the front of his bike, the blinking indicator giving him his trajectory. The wind whipped around them harshly and Fiona kept herself huddled down behind Johns, mind wandering during this uneventful trip.

She hadn’t followed him. He had left the decision open, gave her the chance to follow but she didn’t. There was a sinking feeling in her gut the minute she had turned her back on him. But she wouldn’t look back, not now. She had built this new existence on her first choices and she’d continue in that direction from here on out. The memories though nagged at her brain, as his stare had brought moments back to her that fueled her to chase him down in the desert and demand answers.

* * *

“This is where it ends!” His yelling was pointless for her, Fiona being the only one without a headset. Johns brought his bike to a sudden stop, almost throwing her off before he killed the engine, withdrew the key, and climbed off. His gun was at the ready, Moss and Lockspur at his side in no time.

Fiona, weaponless, gathered herself and stood a few steps back, watching as the men entered the cave. She heard nothing for quite a few minutes and then the shooting kicked up. When Johns yelled for her she entered, pushing her glasses up and stepping into the darkness. She moved towards the boss, his fingers slid over a carving in the low ceiling, eyes bouncing to her as if he expected her to know. The word “furia” was bright in the darkness but she didn’t understand, a light shrug of her shoulders signaling that.

“Let’s get back before Dahl kills Santana.” Moss and Lockspur chuckled, their figures heading back out through the tunnel entrance. As Fiona stepped up to leave behind this pointless excursion Johns grabbed her arm, pulling her back into the depths to stare her down.

“I saw you.”

She stared at him confused, crossing her arms over her chest. He snorted, kicking dirt around at his feet before licking his lips and looking back up at her. “I saw you out in the distance with _him_ and I want to know what you remember.”

“I don’t know what you’re talk-“

“Bullshit. He had to have startled something in your memory and I want to know what.” His gun waved around in front of him, a menacing look upon his face as he stepped closer to her and she stepped back. Fiona felt the desire to flee deep inside, something she had never felt around Johns. But this was a different man, a determined, angry man.

“So I know him then?” She stepped to the left, giving herself more room to back up as he came closer. “You knew I knew him in a past life?”

“Of course I knew. You were right up there as most wanted just like him. Do you remember that?”

“No.”

“My son chased you fuckers all across the god forsaken galaxy and then died at his fucking hands and you’re trying to tell me you don’t remember?!”

“No.”

“BULLSHIT!” He reached back and before she could move his hand was slamming across her face. The force, the suit, the metal and the weight, all threw her back. She slammed into the wall behind her, a jagged piece of rock jutting out and pressing into her scalp. Letting out a scream she buckled, body slumping into the dirt as she watched a fading Johns hightail it out of the dark cave.

* * *

_Fiona felt the warmth around her, the early morning hours creeping in as she stirred softly. She let out a deep sigh, reaching up to brush the hair that tickled her nose, away from her face. When she moved though something else beside her shifted, pulling her in closer, tighter, warmer._

_Her eyes opened slowly, her muscles tense. She was already sore, the running they had been doing the day before insufferable. He had decided that they were going to trek across this great desert planet, her complaints kept to herself. There was a city just to the North of them however, and she wanted a shower and food and relaxation, but she wasn’t the boss. She had pushed harder than ever before, falling asleep as soon as they made camp in the damp and recessed cave he had found as the sun set._

_She could see the sun climbing up over the landscape just through the opening of the cave. She rubbed at her eyes and glanced down, noting the arm that was wrapped protectively around her. She instantly stopped moving, the air in her lungs caught as she tried to decipher what to do. Riddick didn’t seem to be awake, his air smooth and consistent on the back of her neck. She felt his fingers twitch though, pushed flat against her bare stomach under the fabric of her shirt. Her stomach erupted in what were classified as butterflies, a warmth growing inside her that she refused to acknowledge._

_When his legs stirred she closed her eyes quickly and tried to contain herself. The air in her legs regulated and she slowed her heartbeat, trying desperately to focus on sleeping rather than the waking man behind her._

_But it was hard._

_His fingers shifted as he let out a tired groan. They slid up her abdomen and grazed the underside of her breasts. His legs pressed closer to hers and she was aware of the fact that he was pulling her closer still, engulfing her in his warmth. The chill of the environment around them was evaporating, but she welcomed this warmth._

_His free hand, the one connected to the arm her head was laying on, folded just at the elbow quickly, his arm wrapping around her upper torso as he held her. It felt like years, but it was only minutes. She was aware of that, but her heart hammered away and her insides squirmed around from this new feeling, his arms only leaving her when he placed a soft kiss to the side of her head and left her to slumber as he gathered their things._

* * *

The warm air on her face made her cringe. She recoiled from the smell, backing up into the cave wall as fast as she could as her eyes opened and tried to adjust to the world she had been left in. The beast in front stood four feet tall, a full set of pearly whites in his mouth as he hunched down and sniffed the air around her.

Then it leaned forward, a hot warm tongue spreading over her hand slowly, trying to give her some kind of comfort. She shakily reached out, running her fingers over the stripped fur she could, noting the way the animal bowed down and sank to the ground in front of her.

“Not going to eat me, check.”

The animal, much like a dog, looked at her in a demeanor she could only call sarcastic before rising up and taking a few steps back. She was supposed to get up, she could tell.

Her body shook and she used the wall as leverage, the animal by her side quickly, leaning in to provide support as she rose to her feet. Each step ached, each movement of her body a reminder of the betrayal of a man she thought was on her side. She knew she was foolish to think that from the beginning, but the hope inside her was still there all along. The truth of her previous suspicious coming full swing and she wished she had prepared for this.

With some struggle she finally climbed up out of the cave and dropped down to her knees in the sand desert around them. The dog climbed out behind her and yelped at the sky, bounding out a few hundred feet before returning joyously, tongue lolling out of its mouth.

“Peculiar aren’t you.”

He didn’t respond, just nudged her side and then trotted off once again, sitting stoically roughly twenty feet away from her, watching in the distance, back to her.

Fiona gathered herself up once again and retrained herself to walk. She reached out and unraveled the head wrap, unzipping the sweater and dropping both to the ground. The cool air that whipped by touched her bare arms and she sighed, unknotting her hair from the raveled piece of cloth she had it held up in and let it tumble down her shoulders.

She wanted a bath.

“Just letting anyone in are we Pard? How heroic of you.”

Her skin bristled at his voice but she did not turn. She could hear his footsteps, wondering why she hadn’t heard them before. He neared her, tossing down something just in front of her that sloshed before he headed back towards the dog. She peeled her eyes open and looked down at the jug of water, obviously stolen from the station.

“Stealing huh?”

“It’s one of my many talents.” He knelt down near the dog and rubbed its back, glancing over his shoulder to look at her. His form, although shrunk by his lean, was still big and demanding. She could feel the dominance that rolled off of him in waves, and she felt a small submissive shake in her.

“Hmm.” She moved towards him, feet dragging in the desert ground, the bottle of water left behind. She didn’t make more than two steps though before he tossed towards her, at her feet, an object. She bent down, grabbing it and opening it up, sun glinting off the mirror of Dahl’s compact. “Did we get our rocks off watching her undress?”

“I don’t see women often.”

“Maybe you should ask them before enjoying their company.”

“Are you mad?” He rose, taking a few steps towards her, a small grin on his face. “Are you jealous that I wasn’t hovering over you instead? I assure you, if you had been around, I wouldn’t have had to ask.”

She scoffed, snarling almost as she dropped the compact and returned to the bottle of water. She didn’t miss his chuckle. It was all confusing, familiar but far away. She scooped up the bottle and breathed it in, closing her eyes as she sorted through the different elements. She didn’t know when she had developed the ability to smell out most poisons but it had been an impromptu test Bryan had put her through.

“Johns knocked me out and left me here.” She looked over, watching as Riddick grew tense. He crossed his arms, turning his back to her, looking out in the direction Pard was staring. “Does this upset you?”

“I wouldn’t expect much from the father when the son wasn’t too keen on you either.” Riddick moved towards Pard, scooping up the bag he had brought with him. Unraveling it, he pulled out the nodes. She thought to say something about them, as he tossed them off to his left and dropped his bag before moving towards them, but she kept her mouth shut in that regards. He was much larger.

“Am I supposed to know what you’re talking about?”

He didn’t respond. She furrowed her brows.

“I had a dream about you after being knocked out.” She moved towards him, leaving the bottle behind after a long drink. His disregard for her words frustrated her. “Wrapped up in your arms in the wee hours of the morning, sleeping on some random ass planet after running for our lives. Ringing any bells?”

He kept silent, a stick in his hand as he started to dig a hole. She watched him work, hands on her hips.

“Surely you’d remember being so delicate.” Still nothing, his silence eating away at her. “A brute like you.”

No response.

“I’m sick of this.” She kicked up dirt in his direction, noting his hesitance in digging for a moment, only a moment though. He returned to his work and she saw red, her frustration building beyond repair as she shakily ran fingers through her hair. “Everyone seems to know something about me that I don’t fucking know and it’s so fucking frustrating. Just tell me, I’m a big girl I can fucking handle it.” She threw her arms out into the air, grunting as she kicked up dirt again and turned away from him. But she swiveled, pointing a finger at his occupied back, glaring daggers into him. He kept on working as if she wasn’t there. “I’ve only been awake for five fucking years and I can’t remember the entire life I had before. All I know is what Bryan has so gracious pieced together and I-“

“Bryan?” His voice cut through her rant. She stopped, watching as he picked himself up from the ground and turned to her. She wanted to answer his question but he dropped the stick and moved towards her so quickly. The sudden movement locked her into place as he closed in the space, his warmth bouncing off of her. He kept his hands by his sides. “Who’s Bryan?”

“Who’s jealous now?” The words toppled before she could stop them.

Riddick took a hold of her arm and pulled her forward the rest of the distance. His hold wasn’t hard, fingers demanding attention but not forcing it. She closed her eyes, letting out a shaky breath as another memory bombarded its way into her mind. Another moment, a softer moment, in the darkness of some planet, a wound and words. Then a kiss. She shuttered.

“Not jealous.”

 _Territorial._ The word stayed in her mind this time as he let her go. He returned to the digging and she took a moment to collect herself before retrieving a stick and helping him. They dug down, making a hole two feet by two feet, roughly three feet deep. When done he tossed the nodes in, Fiona didn’t ask questions as she pushed the dirt in over them. Standing when done she let the sigh leave her lips.

He was staring at her, watching the air pick up her hair as she balanced her hands on her hips, her eyes trapped in the distance. There was a darkness just off to the right, a cloud build up that seemed to grow and emanate a sorrow. She could feel her heart quickening, her mind trying to push forward a memory. The sound of beads, the slice of nails, and Fiona let out a shaky breath, running her hands through her hair and quickly pulling it up.

As Riddick took a drink and passed the bottle to her his fingers brushed on hers, a light touch on her palm. With a jolt she was revisiting the memory from before, her body shaking as she screeched from the pain of the cut. With eyes closed she was helpless to the real world, the moment living its self out in front of her, the wound, the fire, the touch, the kiss, the words.

Her arm burned where the scar sat that she had had no recollection of getting until now. When she could finally open her eyes he was there, in front of her, goggles removed, a concerned look upon his face. He reached out to touch her, but he hesitated, hand dropping back to his side.

“You saved me.”

“More than once.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t. You’ve repaid your debt more times then needed.”


	5. Chapter Five

“So we’re walking right into the camp, am I getting this right?” Fiona crossed her arms, watching as Riddick shrugged, repositioning his goggles and tossing the stick in hand out into the desert. Pard chased after it, leaping into the air and catching it mid throw. He jogged back, a happy dog amongst the sorrow of the world, a wag to his tail. When he dropped the throwing stick at Fiona’s feet she sighed, looking down at the beast as he yelped at her in anticipation.

“Oh come on Fiona, don’t be an animal, toss the stick.” Riddick teased, his grin and laugh escalating her frustration. She ground her teeth together, staring at the joyful eyes of the mutt before sighing and picking up the stick for a toss. He bound out after it, tackling it to the ground like the hunter he was. “We don’t have much time until that storm creeps in.”

“What is so bad about the storm? Find a cave, hide there while it rains. Do you melt?”

“It’s not just water that comes with those clouds, you of all people should know that.” He was implying a memory, but it was foggy. She sighed, looking away from him to stare at the black clouds that rolled in the sky quite a distance away. She could feel the wings on her skin, the memory vague enough to produce a shadow in her memory. The flapping a distant sound, the screams echoing inside her, she felt the air in her lungs get caught. What she was truly clear of was the hurt that had come with those wings. The slicing, the pain of hundreds of years of hunger digging into flesh as a meal was devoured.

“Well, let’s get a move on then.” Her voice was shaky at best, her assurance minimal.

He chuckled boldly, shaking his head and looking over at her. She refused to make eye contact, choosing rather to wander into the sandy world, following the smell she knew all too well. Riddick didn’t question how she knew where she was going. He kept on her heels, a foot back, watching her every step, as a predator would its prey.

“I don’t remember much of anything.” She wasn’t sure why she was talking, but his silence implied that he would listen because he had nothing better to do. She didn’t glance over her shoulder at him, choosing rather to keep forward, using her senses to focus in on the trail. They weren’t far from the camp; she could see the outline of the building ahead. “What I do know is that I spent quite a bit of time with you. Of course I didn’t know that until recently, but still... apparently you were once important.”

“Once?”

“I don’t remember you anymore.” The sorrow in her voice was new. She wasn’t quite sure why it pained her to say such words, but the ache in her chest was double that of any pain she had felt before. Her mind was skimming through the only memory she could hold onto, the mixture of pain and what could be classified as love, as the beast that walked behind her nursed her back to health. But the wings flapping in her memory blocked anymore of it, and she pushed it all away in favor of not remembering the pain.

Riddick was beside her in no time, closing the distance between them. He kept stride with her as she kept forward. When she felt the brush of his skin on her exposed arm her body shook.

 _“Why do I feel like we just cut off our own nuts here?”_ The voices were a clear as day in her head. Fiona glanced over to Riddick, not quite sure if maybe he could hear them too. It wouldn’t shock her she decided, something unnatural about the man permeated the air around him. But if he did hear them, he made no mention.

_“Probably because we did.”_

_“How about I take one of those jet hogs, two days’ worth of food and go out and hunt this fucker down myself?”_

Fiona chuckled, earning her a look from Riddick. He stopped walking, his brows knitted together as he stared her down. She swallowed hard, staring into the black lens of his goggles, trying to figure out exactly how she would explain herself. But why did she have to do that to begin with? He hadn’t asked her anything about herself, rather he just clung to the past and accepted her new eyes. She didn’t have to explain herself.

_“Bad idea, Diaz. One-on-one with Riddick?”_

“Can you hear them?” His question mixed in with the conversation, she wasn’t sure at first if the words had come from his mouth or someone else’s.

“Yes.”

_“I might be able to get the emergency beacon working again.”_

_“That’s like an ambulance calling for an ambulance, isn’t it?”_

_“It’s back-up for the fucking back-up.”_

“And?”

“They’re discussing the emergency beacon. Backup for the backup, seems to be a no go.”

_“We can’t.”_

It was then that Riddick pulled from his back pocket, tucked away somewhere she couldn’t see, a radio. She recognized the technology, having seen it implanted in all of the ears of Santana’s men. She furrowed her brows, watching as he pieced it together but didn’t slot it in his ear. He turned it on, the ear piece dangling at his hand. The silent whirl to life, the squeal of frequency reaching out, she cringed at the high pitch noise that exploded in her ears that Riddick could not hear.

_“I thought he was the one stranded here.”_

_“Yeah, well, looks like you thought wrong.”_

“Long wait for back-up. In case you were thinking about fixing the beacon and calling for help.” He steadied his gaze on her, his words bouncing around in her head here, and on repeat once against when they hit the intercoms in the ears of the others.

 _“Falco’s radio.”_ Dahl’s voice was a whisper but Fiona could hear it.

Riddick stared her down hard, taking a step closer, Pard bouncing around in the distance. It was then, as the words bounced around in her head, as the team mates bickered so far away, that she realized he couldn’t hear their responses. He was deaf to what they were saying, his eyes watching her through those thick black goggles for a response. So much faith.

_“Riddick, I don’t give a – “_

“He’s so angry. Whatever did you do?” She crossed her arms, but Riddick wasn’t having it, his body getting closer as he invaded her personal space. She moved to step back but he placed a hand on her lower back, holding her there, trying to scare her with proximity. He wasn’t harsh, in a Riddick sense of the word, rather, his body was a solid mass wrapped around her that tried desperately to be gentle; but still intimidating. She would like to say it wasn’t working, but that would be a lie. “Riddick, I don’t give a fuck about the back-up. Because I’ve still got all kinds of gear that can ruin your day in a hurry.”

Riddick chuckled, Fiona shivered. She wasn’t sure where that reaction came from, but he seemed to sense it. As she listed to Johns she spoke, repeating out his response verbatim.

“So you go find another fucking cave. You keep runnin’, you keep hidin’. Doesn’t matter me none. Because in the end, I will find you.” Fiona whispered the end, eyes still trapped in the black void staring her down. Riddick’s hand tip toed over her back carefully and he seemed to thank her with a squeeze before letting her go and turning his attention towards the camp site.

“Look south.”

_“I don’t believe it.”_

Fiona was inclined to agree with Johns. She shrugged off the aurora that was the hulking murdered before turning her attention towards the others. With the first step, Riddick set into motion their march to the camp, Fiona and Pard following carefully behind. The dog grew further and further away with each meter of distance gained, his predator stance taking charge. Fiona could feel the dread sitting in, the truth facing her now more than ever. She had accidentally picked a side, that much she was sure of. She didn’t know directly if this was the correct side, but there was no turning back now.

“Dahl’s loading tranq darts, they’re getting weaponry.”

Riddick didn’t respond verbally, only nodded as he continued to move forward. Johns was just a few meters away, his eyes bouncing around the surroundings, Santana and his right hand man just behind him. They dropped their weapons, eyes bouncing between the two.

“I see your whore has found her rightful place.”

“Nicknames never seem to die, after all these years.” Riddick chuckled, glancing over at the woman on his left for a moment. “Miss Fiona wandered into my camp after getting lost in the desert. Someone gave her a knock on the head. You can have her back if you’d like.”

She sent a glare in Riddick’s direction.

“She’s not of any concern for me either, she got me here. Unknowingly for that matter. Do you enjoy her little amnesia?”

“I can safely say I enjoyed her better when she could remember me.”

Johns nodded, this conversation strangely non-hostile for the situation. Fiona could hear Dahl loading the darts, hear the click of the gun as she announced to Luna and Johns that she was ready when he was. Riddick knew she had a gun trained on him, and maybe this was part of his plan, but Fiona wasn’t too sure.

“So, what’s the bounty at?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care. It’s not why I’m here.” Johns shrugged his shoulders, eyes bouncing over to Fiona for a moment. She didn’t know what to do. Her arms felt strange, her body felt strange, this interaction could happen without her, and she wondered for a moment what would happen if she wondered into the cantina and got herself a drink. Shade. Water. Sanity.

“Oh come on Johns, entertain me a little.”

“So you know who I am?”

“You reek of entitlement. Easily given away if you ask me.”

“If that may be, I want to know what happened in system code M-344/G 10 years ago. I’ve come a long way to talk to you.”

Fiona furrowed her brows, confused. She had told Johns about this location, she had directed him here, and not once had he confided in her any reason other than her hunch for coming all this way. She found herself frustrated, watching as the man she had once sought comfort in blatantly ignore her at this confession time.

“You used me?” The words sputtered out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“You seem to be the only person who doesn’t remember who you are, why would I pass up that opportunity? You came to me, you asked me, no... begged me for transport. You told me you had coordinates to a grand bounty and that all you needed was a ride. Who would I be to say no? It seems almost sick to be the one to inform you that the bounty you directed us to would be your lover. I was doing you at favor.” His grin was easy going, his small laugh at the end making her snarl. She took a step towards him but Riddick reached out, taking a hold of her wrist before she could get far.

“A word of my past would have been nice.”

“The darkness kept you right on path darlin’. I wasn’t going to change your destiny.”

Fiona could see fire, her body trembling from the anger. She flexed her fingers, trying to pull her arm from Riddick’s hold, but he just squeezed tighter. When the waved passed, and her body grew slack, he let go.

“Couldn’t get it out of my whore because she lost her memory, so you came to the main course instead. I’m flattered.”

 _Whore._ Fiona ground her teeth, returning her arms to their crossed position over her chest.

“It’s kind of strange not knowing what to put down in the family bible.”

“It’s kind of strange three guys have to die just so you can hear -”

“No no no. You don’t get to put that shit on me. Those kills are on you.”

“I have a feeling that’s not the only thing on him.” Fiona smirked, nodding her head towards the camp. She could hear Dahl’s curse under her breath, hear the stutter in the woman’s heartbeat as she gathered her wits.

“Shut it Fiona.”

“Just because you couldn’t give away my secrets doesn’t mean I won’t give away yours.”

“I hate to interrupt this little... history romance lesson, but I feel as though I haven’t introduced myself properly yet. My name is- “

“Box boy.” Riddick cut through his speech, blocking all control Santana might have had.

“Say what?”

“You are the guy who said that he was gonna put my head in a box. Right?”

Fiona watched as Santana swallowed what confidence he did have, his response a mutter in the space between them. Her ears filled with air, the voices just inches away growing numb to sound Their mouths moved but what they were saying vanished in thin air. She felt a sudden wave of nausea hit her, her head feeling light. She tried to keep her stare steady on Johns but the air around them was growing thicker. She could feel the static from the storm in the distance as it grew closer. The rain was pelting the ground where they had been standing, where Pard had chased after the stick. The ground was getting soaked, sand tossing around rock as the ground welcomed the water bounty. But there was something else there as well.

She could hear their heartbeats, feel their claws digging into the newly wet sand as they pushed the ground away and crawled up from the depths below. They shook off the earth, screaming into the storm with such joy.

“Hey, wait wait wait... what are we playing here, retard bingo? What?”

The conversation was lost to her, her weight shifting as she felt faint. The storm was growing, the electricity growing thicker still. She felt the air in her lungs once again catch as she heard the screams. They were memories mixing with distant noises and she couldn’t make sense of it. The flashes collapsing in around her, she let out a groan, ignoring the men around her as they spurred into a heated argument.

When the pain hit her stomach she doubled over. She was aware of the snarl of Pard, aware of hands on her body as a bright light hit her in the eyes. She couldn’t see, she couldn’t feel. All she could do was hear the snarl of beasts in the distance, their speed picking up as they charged in the darkness, in the rain. She could smell the water, feel the blood pumping in their bodies, and then the world went from white to black.


	6. Chapter Six

Johns paced, watching the sleeping criminal in front of him.

They had pulled his motionless body into the building after making sure he was out. The confusion and murmurs filled up the next thirty minutes as Dhal did a vitals check on the man and quickly learned he was burning through the tranquilizer darts she had shot him up with entirely too quick for a human.

Fiona had been tossed into the corner shortly after, coming to, watching as they all inspected and gathered around the sleeping criminal. She shook her head when Dahl offered her water, tucking her legs up and hugging them close to her body. She felt the sobs deep in her chest, the deaths of those she had known so long ago so fresh in her mind. She could see them now, the boys as they were pulled apart, the desperation in Paris' screams; the fear in Johns' eyes. She dropped her head, sobbing silently, her body wracking with pain.

She could remember The Core, the people she had singlehandedly murdered. The days in and out of pain and all the attempts at healing, no end to the torture of fight or die. She could remember the pregnant girl, and Jack and the wave they had fought together. She remembered the start of her life, her life as a street child, as a dancer, and eventually a prostitute. She could clearly remember the night she met Riddick, the pain and the defeat; his eyes shining brightly in the dark as bringers of death.

But she couldn't focus on that.

Raising her head and whipping away the tears, she swallowed down her sobs and steadied her breathing.

The sun was gone, the cold was creeping in, and Johns' nerves were shot. When he reached out and slammed a punch into Riddick it wasn't entirely unexpected, his calm exterior cracking as he frantically tried to wake him up. Fiona felt a new fire in the pit of her stomach, the odd sensation mixed with her remembered feelings.

"We beatin' men in chains now?"

Johns didn't respond to Moss, choosing rather, to focus on the shine job that was now looking him in the eyes. Riddick held a small grin, blood trickling down from the cut on his cheek.

"Listen up, you sick fuck. From the beginning, for the historical record, my son boards the Hunter Gratnzer with you two in tow, somewhere near M-344/G it sends out a distress signal, does my son survive the crash?"

"There's gonna be big drama, in the next few hours." Riddick's voice carried over the silence with dominance. Chains or no chains, Fiona knew he was in charge. She found herself chuckling, shaking her head, letting the smile linger. "But whatever happens, no matter what they tell you, don't let'em take these chains off me."

"Them. Who's  _them_ , who are you talking... do you know who you're talking to here?" Johns' voice grew more frantic as he leaned in closer, his seat Santana's box.

Riddick disregarded him, eyes making contact with Santana.

"That was for me?"

Fiona watched as Santana slid off the table on her left, taking a few steps towards the center of the room. His face was growing less confident, his steps wobbling from exhaustion. Half his men were already gone and it was evident that he could now feel the weight of the situation. Fiona looked down and away, fiddling with her fingers as she tried to push away the sounds of the crying beasts in the distance.

"When the chains come off, Box Boy, you go in the first five seconds."

"Oh really? And you plan on killing me with what, your mouth?" He pulled out his blade in showmanship, using it to generate more confidence. But everyone in the room already knew that if the chains were gone that sword would be long gone and hidden, tucked away along with his ego.

"That shiny blade right there actually."

"I'd love to see you try."

"For the historical record," Riddick returned his attention to Johns, "he made it."

"So it's just you and him." Fiona ran over the numbers in her head, the faces of the people that survived. She could remember now in what order they died, how they all suffered to their last moments. She glanced up, wishing he would look at her.

"About the same number you see here in this room."

"So how many made it off?"

"Three." It should have been four. She found that flare of anger she had felt so long ago resurfacing. He had left her there, left her to die as they flew off into the sky far away from death and destruction. She could remember the fucking hole she had been trapped in, night running on and on and on as the tiny beasts below tried to snap her fingers off. But no, they didn't eat her, she ate them, and night... the night just kept coming. And when there was light? It was a fucking trap.

"But not him?"

"No."

Baby Johns' eyes flashed once again in her memory, their fight leading up to his skewered exit. She had caused his death, she had finally stood up for herself, and she had put that man in his grave. He hadn't been the first, and he surely wasn't the last, but he was the most impactful.

"So between the time of the crash and the time you left that planet my son dies and I can safely assume it was in your hands, is that right?" Johns rose, tossing his hands into the air, stepping away. "I'm wasting my fucking time here." His eyes caught a hold of her and she felt the guilt build in her stomach.

She wanted to tell him.

The guilt deep inside her heart was eating away at what soul she has left. She wanted to weep in front of him. With each flooding memory of his son coming back, she was reminded of the years she spent with Senior Johns and his crew, one on one training alongside the man who became a confidant. She let out a chuckle amid a sob, knowing damn well how fucking ironic this moment was.

_He doesn't give a damn about you._

"You grant any last wishes?" Riddick's attention turned to Dahl. Fiona glanced from the woman on her right to the beast in chains, watching him gauge her reaction.

"Not that the chains aren't a hot look, but no. I'm not going to straddle you in front of all these guys." Her voice wavered slightly and she looked away from Riddick to Fiona, catching the woman's eyes. There was a silent message there, but Fiona couldn’t pick up on it anymore, her senses disobeying her as her body shivered. She could feel the rain knocking on the door, she could hear the proximity of the creatures outside. She debated deep inside if she should say anything, but her mouth stayed shut. She looked away from Dahl, refusing to look up at Johns who was hovering. With grace and silence, she pushed herself up, pulling her hood up and tucking her hair away.

"What if I kill all of them first?"

"Easy boy, there's a lot more tranq where that came from." Dahl shifted closer to Fiona, one hand on the pistol on her belt.

"Tell me what you see out that window." He was referring to the one just behind Fiona. The flaps shuttered in the wind and Dahl hesitated before pushing in closer to Fiona and looking out.

"Cyclops unit, two ships, and a couple of dead guys in plastic."

"And you don't see anything else?"

"Nope."

"Let me know when you do. Love those toenails by the way."

"Yeah?" She glanced over her shoulder, "Predator Pink."

"Matches your nipples." Riddick’s eyes shifted to Fiona, watching as she glared at him. She refused to look away, staring hard into the shining orbs. He looked at her in a different way, a longing trapped in those iris's, something the others don't seem to notice. And now she understood this look, she felt the same weight inside her. He knew now, he knew that she could remember it all, his eyes taking in the data as she cocked her head and raised her brow.

"Enough of this, can we just detach his head already?" Santana pulled the attention back to himself, waving his knife, but he didn’t move closer. He kept a gravitational distance, a good foot from the man restrained by three different chains. It was almost laughable.

"Here's what's going to happen, in the next sixty seconds, you're going to watch your own head drop into that box. Nothing, nothing is going to save you from that special place in hell." Johns annunciated so clearly, a new-found strength in him. He inched closer, foot hitting the edge of the box just in front of his catch. "Maybe, just maybe in your last minute of life, you want to be something other than a goddamn savage. Gimmie some fucking answers please."

Riddick didn’t look at him, rather his eyes drifted again to Fiona. The rest of the room followed his gaze. Fiona stared back at him hard, trying desperately to ignore the eyes of Johns as he took a few fateful steps towards her.

It began to pour.

The rain trickled down softly on the tin roof for a moment before it pelted the surface above abrasively. The wind slammed against the building and the old merc shack shook under the pressure.

"Time's up."

"I'm done, he's all yours." Johns took gradual steps towards Fiona, his attention no longer on the chained convict.

"Hold him down."

He advanced on her, and Fiona found her attention split as she stared hard at a man she once thought was her teacher while another man attempted to cut the head off of her once savior. She could see the plans he had in his mind unraveling, his resolve to be a good man slipping. She stiffened, eyes looking past him. Her body wanted to move as Diaz shoved Riddick forward, using his weight to hold him down. Johns reached out to take her arm, Santana swung to take Riddick's head, and Cyclops screamed outside, announcing the arrival of the third party.

Everyone stopped.

"Maybe it's another dingo dango thing." Diaz announces, but the room felt the uncertainty. Dahl stared hard out the window, following instructions she received earlier unknowingly. And then they all ran outside, into the rain, into the darkness, trying to figure out if maybe Riddick is right; if there is something else out there.

Fiona didn’t need to see. She could feel their heartbeats, hear their claws in the sand as they circled the dark perimeter of the building. They were making a circle, scoping out the smells and sounds they have encountered.

"You remember?"

"Yes."

"Then you know what you did." He refers to Johns, and Fiona glared at him, stepping forward. She sits down on the box in front of him, straddling it, searching his eyes for a different truth. She doesn't want to remember the murder of Johns' son; she doesn't want to know it was her. She wants him to tell her it was different; tell her it was an accident. "You can't tell him."

"I need to."

"No Fiona. You need to let it go. He was playing you. It would have been different if you had remembered."

She sighed.

With a steady hand, she reached out and ran her fingers over the side of his face, whipping at the blood around his eye. He seemed to relax then, sinking into the chains more, letting his weight be held by them. She smiled, leaning in closer to him, fully aware of all the fucked-up things in their lives now. She could see all the nights spent with this man, all the death, all the running. She could remember the pain, the suffering, the separation and the return. The pleasure, the devotion, the need, it all mixed together and her skin prickled, a stutter in her being as pleasure coursed through her from the proximity.

She could hear the others outside, trying to shut the cyclops off. They could see them now, sliding in the dirt, coming to life with the gift of rain. They now knew what was out in the darkness.

Fiona felt drawn to him, a unmistakable pull she wasn’t entirely happy with. With the slightest lean she planted a soft kiss on his unmoving lips before rising hastily and returning to her spot on the wall. The others flooded back into the building, slamming the door behind them, cyclops off.


	7. Chapter Seven

I don’t know WHY I changed tenses in the last chapter. I must have been real flipping tired when I wrote that shit. Safe to say I’ve fixed it. Sorry for this taking so damn long. Picking where I was going and what I wanted to do was hard, and I hashed it all out about a million times and kept throwing what I had away. So here we are.

Let me know what you think. It’s rough, I didn’t edit as much as I usually try to.

This chapter jumps around. And I cut out a LOT of the movie scenes because well... it’s not the best out of the trilogy, lets face it. Generally everyone who is reading this has seen Riddick (2013) so I don’t feel as though I have to explain in depth exactly what is going on. If you need me to explain it, message me, I’ll be happy to relocate you to Wikipedia so you can read the movie summary.

* * *

They were dying.

Fiona wrapped her arms around her body, staring out into the rain from the ramp of the ship. Johns and Riddick had left her, Luna, and Dahl behind to retrieve the nodes. Everyone else was dead. Blood, rain, death, it was all a distant memory that flooded her mind as she stared out at the ground that was getting pelted with rain.

They were clinging to Riddick like he was the savior. She could remember standing in the folds of sand as they gathered the light and strapped themselves into chains and holsters. Helping Johns into chains, trapping her bounty hunter into a small space, not knowing then if they were going to live. She could remember the way those poor defenseless people looked up to him as though he was the king of darkness and he was going to pull them from this mess. Scratch free.

She wouldn’t be that woman again.

Growling she took a few more steps towards the end. The water bounced down from the sky and a few small droplets hit her on the cheek. She whipped them away and glared out into the darkness at the creatures that walked along the perimeter of the ships. Dahl was afraid to turn the lights off. They were sitting in the darkness waiting for the return of the men and Fiona wanted to carve out her own path instead of sitting around and waiting.

“They’ll be back.” The blonde woman took a few steps down the ramp, confusing Fiona’s stare into the void as worry.

“I know.” She turned slightly, looking up at Dahl. There wasn’t much resemblance to her and Fry, just the blonde hair. They had different builds, different gear, different attitudes, but in that moment Fiona could see the captain in Dahl’s features. The fearless struggle the woman had gone through to crawl her way through the darkness to stop Riddick from leaving. She had seen the sorrow and fear in Dahl’s eyes when Lockspur and Moss were slaughtered in the merc shack, very much so the same sorrow she had seen in Fry’s eyes when Paris was gobbled up. It was weakness.

“What are you Fiona?”

“That’s an interesting question.”

“It’s one I never thought to ask.”

“You just assumed like everyone else does.”

“I want to know.”

Fiona sighed, taking a few steps back towards the opening of the ship. She didn’t miss the small step back out of caution from Dahl, the hand on the pistol. A woman that had once considered her an equal now thought of her as an enemy and she couldn’t help but smile.

“You show a little bit of difference and they think of you as a threat.” Fiona gestured towards Dahl’s hand on her weapon. “Don’t trust me anymore?”

“Who says I ever did?”

“Oh you did. Don’t deny it Dahl. You thought of me as your little sister, the one you lost ten years ago. My eyes might be off a little but I know she was a brunette too.” The grin amplified the rate at which Dahl’s heart was pounding and Fiona chuckled, taking the last couple of steps to stand right in front of the woman. She was breathing heavily, her blood was pumping erratically, and her heart was hammering much too quickly. At this rate she would call the entire planet of beasts to her place of location.

“You’re just like him.”

“Who?” Fiona unraveled her arms and stuffed her hands in her front pockets.

“Riddick?”

“Yeah?”

“Two heartless pricks.”

“Wouldn’t stop you from fucking one of us though.” Fiona winked, pushing past the woman to step into the empty bay. There was one bike left, strapped down on the back-right side. She figured that if they didn’t come back she could go out there and get what she needed. No one would stop her, and if they tried she’d handle it.

“You’re not the Fiona we picked up.”

“No I’m not.” She sighed, turning around to watch Dahl move closer. Her hand was off her weapon now, arms crossed. Her brows were set in a straight line as she stared confused at Fiona. Luna was up in the seats at the front of the bay listening, Fiona could hear his hands working on cleaning his weapon he barely ever fired. His rosary bounced against his neck. “I was a different woman before you met me, and I have just recently been introduced to her once again.”

“You remember?”

“Yes. I remember quite a few things. It’s funny how triggers work. You never really know whats going to cause the floodgates to open.”

“And?”

“And what Dahl?”

“What are you Fiona?”

_What are you, what are you, what are you?_

_“The child of darkness shall be raised in the evil that the world provides. She shall overcome the trials and tribulations, rise up and encompass the world around her to take on a new order. A new kind of evil.”_

“It’s complicated.”

“This isn’t junior high and I’m not some fucking moron, explain it.” She was getting frustrated. Luna shifted at the tone of Dahl’s voice, his feet carrying him further into the room so he could see what was happening. Fiona could feel him just behind her. He wouldn’t get a shot off before she cut his throat.

“I don’t think you deserve an answer.”

“Excuse me?” Dahl’s anger was building, a flaw in her that Fiona had noticed when she met the woman. Her emotions got the best of her, mainly when people tried to put her down a peg.

“You heard me.”

“We fucking took your ass in and fed you, took care of you. You were a senseless little helpless girl at a bar asking some random fucking stranger for passage. You’re lucky it was Johns and not some backwater Fuckwad.”

“Yeah, Johns and his whole crew, saviors. And yet you’ve known who I was this entire time, haven’t you?”

Luna shifted and his gun was lifted to the ready, his eyes bouncing between the two women in front of him who were fuming. Fiona stepped to the left, pushing herself out of his line of fire, unknowingly to him.

“That’s beside the point. Johns asked me to keep my mouth shut.”

“Well congratulations. You’re a fucking tool too. Join the party.” Fiona steadied herself, watching Dahls hand as it tensed up on the handle of her pistol. She wanted her to pull it, she wanted her to defend herself, take that extra step. Then she could bump the woman off for being a jackass and not feel bad about it. And when Johns returned she’d wait for him to get squared away and then toss his ass out the back, leaving him there to be eaten, just like his son. She could feel the fire growing inside her, her body radiating warmth as she took a step closer to Dahl, hoping to push the woman’s nerves to the edge.

“Why are you doing this?” She was catching on. The look in her eyes, the removal of her hand from her weapon, she was figuring it out. Fiona had to give her props, she didn’t expect it.

“Because once again I’ve been used as a means to an end and I’m not privy to being a toy. I’ll take whats mine and move on with no regrets.”

“It might have been using you but that was all Johns.” Dahl took a step away and sighed, dropping her head slightly to look at the ground. She was thinking over her choice of words, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Luna stood at the ready just on her right and she glanced over at him, flipping her hand at him for him to leave. With hesitance the boy backed up, dropping his gun and taking a few steps back into the shadows. “Fiona, if I had been allowed to tell you I would have.”

“Bullshit.”

“You think what you want, but I speak the truth. You are right. You remind me of her and I...” Dahls voice grew quiet as she returned her eyes to Fiona’s. The rain continued to drizzle down onto the earth. Fiona could hear the purr of the beasts just outside, their hiss as they tried to test the light on their skin. It wouldn’t do them any good, they couldn’t get much closer, but they were stupid. Amid it all she could hear the roar of the approaching bike. Two miles out, if she wasn’t mistaken. “I never meant to hurt you. This sappy shit isn’t my best, but I want you to know that. You have always been important to me.”

Fiona had no words.

She swallowed the air that sat in her mouth and pulled oxygen into her lungs through her nose slowly. Her heart hammered away in her chest as she tried to decide what to do next. Her anger was senseless, she knew that. This was an emotional play she wasn’t ready for, all of her memories coming back so abruptly, she had two different lives in her head.

The bike roared through the silence, slamming up the ramp with unimaginable speed. Fiona jumped back as it braked and rocked in the space before finally dying down. The nodes hit the ground, and Johns feet joined them a second later.

_No Riddick._

“Where is he?” Fiona spoke up, stepping up to Johns as he caught his breathe and removed the rain goggles from his forehead.

“Got stuck, had to leave him. I brought what we need.” He motioned for Dahl to take the nodes but she hesitated. Her eyes bounced from Fiona to her boss, a battle raging in her head. “Are you fucking kidding me? He’s a fucking convict. Dahl get the fucking nodes, come on.”

But she didn’t move.

He tossed his arms into the air and grabbed one himself, hauling it up the bay to the captain chair, dragging it along the ground behind him. Luna perched there on the edge, watching with an indifference about him. All three watched as Johns slammed the node in and headed to the seat, manually closing the bay door from his chair.

“Strap in we’re flying out in five.” His voice echoed in the silence, the sound of the rain a faint tapping on the metal now.

“Johns.”

“I’m not having this fucking conversation with you Dahl. Strap in or you can stay behind with him.” So she did as she was told, glancing once more at Fiona before heading up and taking a seat. Luna was behind her, unsure of who to follow as his entire crew was gone now. The space stood between Fiona and her choice. Each second ticked by, the ship turning on in different places now that its power was fully restored. The minutes were dwindling and she needed to decide quickly if she was going to stay with Riddick and fight in the darkness or fly high and leave the planet behind.

Her two worlds collided in her head as she tried to decipher her thoughts. Fingers twitching in thin air she let out a sigh before heading up towards the seats. Dahl’s smile was trying to remain reassuring as the ship lifted off the ground, feet sliding into place.

“Fiona, take a seat.” Johns voice was thick with demand, his attention in front of him, not on her. She nodded, sinking into one of the chairs and reaching for the latches. As they pulled up above the ground and left the world grew silent. The ticking of the ship was the only noise and Fiona felt her stomach sink as she clicked the belt into place over her chest.

But she felt him still. Her eyes closed, her fingers twitched, and she tried to push it away but she could feel him. She knew he was there, she knew he was alive. The world was tormented below with the storm, and the cries of the animals that were hit by their light was loud but she could hear his heart beat in her ears, feel his breath on her neck.

She shuttered, quickly unlatching her belt and standing just behind Johns. The ship rocked and she almost lost her footing but she steadied herself, watching the darkness below as he scaled along the surface.

“You’re looking for him.” Her words could have fallen on deaf ears as there were no responses to be had. But Johns dipped down towards the ground none the less and Fiona’s eyes searched for the man on the ground who was crawling his way to a vantage point.

* * *

His breathing was shallow, his eyes closed tight as he laid there on the floor. Dahl was as soaked as him and she unlatched the harness from herself. Riddick’s heart was erratic, Fiona watching from her seat as he shifted slightly. Johns continued to push the ship off the ground and into the air, away from the chaos.

“Take us back to the merc shack.”

“Excuse me?” He turned to look at her, eyes dancing in the darkness.

“There’s a second ship there, take us back.”

Johns debated, returning his attention to the front. When he pulled back the controls and slowed to swivel Fiona silently thanked him, watching as the man on the floor came to and picked himself up. Dahl helped him to stand, her hands lingering on his shoulders before helping him into a chair and taking her own seat. Fiona kept her eyes forward, ignoring everyone around her until they were descending to the ground. She was quick about it, getting herself up as soon as they touched. She gathered the other node, let herself out, and stepping into the rain only to drop the hatch of Santana’s ship and crawl inside. She made quick work of booting up the ship, doing a system check and running diagnostics.

“I didn’t know you knew anything about ships.” Dahls voice was behind her, startling her only slightly.

“Recent memory as it were.”

“Nifty how that works.”

Fiona turned slowly, watching as the woman stood there, a hulk of a man behind her, now standing ten feet tall and reformed. He didn’t look as if he had just fought to the end of his time, crawling on hands and knees to the top of a mountain to be flight lifted out of his sure death. She shook her head, chuckling slightly as she smiled up at Dahl.

“Goodbye then?”

“I suppose so.”

Fiona rose slowly, standing in front of the woman she had grown close to. It was strange, looking at her now, not only as a friend but as an enemy. She had never considered mercs as horrible until she had been reminded of her past, and this moment was one for the records in her stored box of emotions. She couldn’t go with Dahl, no matter how much a part of her wanted to return to the last five years and forget the rest of her life she had been so recently reminded of. It didn’t work that way.

“Take care of her Riddick. She’s important to me.” With that Dahl turned and left, heading out of ship two to return to ship one. Fiona was alone, standing before the hulk himself, a silence growing between them. She turned her back to him, closing the bay and turning the ship on full. The engines fired up and she took the captain seat, listening as Riddick stepped forward and took the co-pilot chair. It was backwards, it was all backwards. She was never in charge, and she could feel the shift between them. Her fingers made light work over the keyboard as she lifted the ship and set it to pull off the planet. Destination undecided just yet.

All she knew was that the man beside her smelled, different.

She glanced in his direction, watching as he removed his goggles and strapped in. His eyes bounced around the controls before finally meeting her gaze. His iris as she remembered them shined in the dark, the bringer of death, the bringer of pleasure. She could see it all in those orbs. His heart rate would be considered steady but she could feel the speed of it, and she knew it was abnormal. She could smell the scent on him, the blood under his clothes where the gashes sat unattended to.

Johns shot past them, rising above the storm clouds and Fiona returned her attention to the front to follow the merc. Some kind of deal had been made in her absence and she didn’t need to question it. The merc wasn’t following them and as she climbed out of the clouds and into the bright sky she quickly lowered the sun block shield.

“Where too?” His voice was rough around the edges, pain evident in his tone.

She wondered if he was slipping or if her heightened awareness of him was making this moment more surreal for her. It was odd, it was discomforting, knowing that the man she had considered a god and untouchable for years was beside her now, no more an untouchable being but an equal.

“Where were you intending on taking your free ride when you called out for public transportation?”

Riddick chuckled, leaning in towards her to take over the controls. She watched as he made light work of programming in a destination, a place she didn’t know about. She scanned the specs of the forest planet, noting its attributes and lack of civilization. When he was done he leaned back in his chair and grinned, glancing over at her.

“Are we taking a nap then?” His question plagued her as she thought about its intention.

“I’ve been asleep for quite some time now. I’d much rather stay awake.”

* * *

Yeah, that’s right. I’ve done it again. THERE’S ANOTHER STORY COMING OUT! God, I need a life, and a moment to collect my sanity but I just... I can’t end it there. You know? It might be a shorter story, or a longer one, I don’t know yet. All I know is that there are a LOT of unanswered questions in this series yet and I aim to answer them soon enough.

So look out for the next installment! It’ll be titled Revelations. Should be out soon. I’ve already started working. THANKS! If you want to keep reading about Fiona and Riddick, and step into the dirty (wink wink) that will be in the next story subscribe to me! So you can at least get the notification regarding the start of Revelations.


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